A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
by govgal
Summary: Neal gets his hands on the manifest, but there's just one tiny thing he's overlooked.  Peter knows him too well. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words.

White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network. Without them my life would be very boring! Of course, they're also mainly responsible for the evidence of PTSD when they go on hiatus!

Summary: Neal gets his hands on the manifest, but there's just one tiny thing he's overlooked. Peter knows him too well.

Plenty of Season 3 spoilers. This is set directly after "As You Were."

Neal was sitting at his desk looking through a boring mortgage fraud case. It had been a quiet morning, but Neal was certain something was up because Peter had been quiet all morning. Neal heard someone clear their throat and looked up to see Peter giving him the double finger point.

_Well_, Neal thought, _Maybe he'll have a new case for us to work on._

Upon entering Peter's office, Neal noticed the definite frown gracing Peter's features. Neal decided not to push Peter's patience and refrained from putting his feet on the desk, and then risked looking up at Peter's face with a very innocent expression on his face.

Peter just glared at him for a few seconds before quietly asking a one word question.

"Why?"

Neal just stared back at Peter, not letting the older man intimidate him with his glare.

"Why what?"

"Why after everything that's happened would you do this?"

"I'm a lot of things, Peter, but I'm not a mind reader. Could you maybe give me a hint?"

"You've heard it said, 'a picture is worth a thousand words'?"

"I'm not sure how that's relevant."

"Oh, it's relevant alright."

In one smooth motion, Peter swiveled his desktop monitor toward Neal showing a freeze framed picture of Neal in the Burke's bedroom holding the page of the U-boat manifest in his hand, the safe still open behind him.

Neal was stunned, he realized he hadn't been wearing a mask and he had quite obviously missed the security camera.

"I'm going to ask you once more, Neal. Why?"

If it had been anyone other than Peter, Neal might have been able to outright lie and come up with some crazy story, but this was Peter. He had just been caught on tape breaking into the agent's home.

"Peter." Neal stopped unable to say more and looked up to gauge Peter's expression. Neal had expected seething hatred, but found disappointment and pain. Neal almost thought he caught a slight sheen, an almost teary look in Peter's eyes, right before Peter spoke.

"I'm guessing you are not so appreciative of my distrust of you anymore. Yes. I expected you to break in. Yes, I installed a security camera, hoping beyond hope to prove once and for all that you wouldn't do this."

Peter looked frustrated beyond belief, and Neal didn't trust his voice at the moment, so he let Peter continue.

"How could you do this to me? How could you do this to Elle?"

_Of course Peter couldn't leave Elle out of the argument, _Neal thought. _Peter was trying to make him feel even more guilty. How on earth had that even happened? When had he developed a conscience? What could he even say? "The truth. Just tell him the truth" a_ little voice whispered inside his head.

"Peter, you once asked me 'If you were one step away from pulling off the biggest score in your life could you let it go?'. I know you were referring to David Lawrence and him getting away with the Federal Reserve job, but I always wondered if you were really asking me. I guess you finally have your answer."

Neal didn't look Peter in the eye. He just couldn't. He knew he had been stupid and impulsive, but as much as he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about the treasure and doing whatever it took to get it.

Peter finally broke the silence."So all of this; everything we've done together has all been a lie? It's all been about revenge on Adler?"

"I just want you to understand, Peter. Have you ever wanted something so much you would do anything to get it?"

"I've always wanted to be an FBI agent and now you are doing everything in your power to destroy that."

"It wasn't like that Peter. I just wanted freedom to do what I wanted, and be able to afford it all. I accidentally found out about the manifest, and the urge was just..."

"...an involuntary reflex?" Peter finished Neal's sentence before he had a chance.

"I wasn't meaning to hurt you Peter. I never meant to hurt Sara either, but it always happens. It seems I'm always doing something wrong for the wrong reasons, I can't ever get it right and I don't even know what the right reasons are? It wasn't until I saw that White Collar staff picture that you have in your safe that I really even felt guilty.

"Were you just going to disappear? Not even say goodbye? You and the little guy were just going to disappear, double cross an FBI Agent and a woman that loves you? How could you stoop so low as to break into my house to get your hands on the manifest? Does our partnership mean nothing to you?

"You couldn't possibly understand what our partnership means to me, Peter, and no, I didn't even tell Mozzie. He doesn't know I had the manifest."

"I know you put it back in the safe, but I assume you took a picture, right? What is that picture worth to you now? If you were willing to risk breaking into my home, then you must know where the treasure is hidden. You lied to me Neal."

"I didn't lie to you, Peter. I didn't have the treasure and I didn't know what had happened when I took the lie detector test."

"But you do now, and with that manifest you'll be able to make yourself millions. You could keep it all to yourself and ditch everyone that has come to call you a friend over the last few years; apparently even Mozzie!"

"No, it's not like that."

The look on Peter's face expressed serious disbelief.

"Yes, Neal, that's exactly what this is. You would give up everything you and I've worked for. Not only are you making me look bad, but it would disappoint Jones, Diana, June, and Elle. You've already lost Sara because of your choices. Is it worth it?"

"Do I have to have an answer?"

Neal was fiddling with his hands. He was really wishing he had his fedora that he could pull down over his eyes, but he hadn't brought anything into Peter's office with him. His fingers absently crept over to Peter's tin of paperclips and pulled one out, rearranging it into a question mark without realizing it, but Peter noticed right away.

"Is that your subconscious way of telling me that you are questioning your actions yourself?"

"Hmm? I'm sorry. What did you say?" Neal had been lost in his own thought process, still trying to debate Peter's 'Is it worth it' question.

"You rearranged the paperclip into a question mark, Neal. You can't tell me that's not symbolic."

Neal looked down at the paperclip, finally seeing what Peter saw. It hadn't been his intention to form a question mark; his hands were just idly messing while his mind rambled. _Great_, he thought, _now even my subconscious is giving me away, what kind of conman am I?_

"Honestly, Peter, I can't even tell you why I'm still here. I don't know why I haven't just disappeared already. I have changed. You changed me. If I hadn't changed, I would have been long gone.

"What do you really expect me to believe, Neal? Is this a con too? Are you playing with my emotions for sympathy, so I don't throw you back in jail?"

"Maybe it doesn't even matter anymore, Peter. First, I lost Kate, and now I've lost Sara. I've lost what slim measure of trust you've afforded me, so why am I still here? Why didn't I run?"

Peter realized that Neal _was_ actually self analyzing and wasn't just trying to divert him off the subject. Maybe Neal had changed, just not in the way he had expected.

"Did you want me to be the one to catch you? Were you were secretly hoping I could? I've seen you break into safes, Neal. You had no trouble helping Robin Hoodie and Sara return the bustiere. I knew the safe in my bedroom wouldn't stop you, but I wanted to see just how far you would go."

Peter saw the realization dawning on Neal's face, but managed not to smirk.

"You set me up? You were testing me? Is this manifest even real or were you just trying to draw me out?"

Peter decided a little mystery wouldn't hurt Neal at all. There was no sense confirming or denying the existence of the manifest just in case Neal _was_ conning him.

"It worked didn't it? DC Art Crimes was very interested in helping out. If you create enough smoke, people see fire. In your case, you saw all those dollar signs disappearing and I just couldn't see how you could possibly resist."

"Once again, Peter, it is quite obvious that I underestimated you."

"Neal, this doesn't have to have a tragic ending. You don't have to go to prison for this."

Neal gave a sharp almost derogatory laugh.

"And what exactly might my other options be, Agent Burke? I'm sure you've been dying to send me back to jail ever since the warehouse exploded. I'm sure this was not the outcome you had hoped for."

"Why do you keep Kate's bottle of wine?"

"What? You've lost your mind, what does that have to do with anything?"

Peter took a deep breath, determined to prove his point to Neal, no matter how long it took.

"Why do you keep Kate's bottle of wine?"

"It's stupid, I know. She's not coming back."

"You told me once, the bottle was the promise of a better life. The bottle, an empty bottle, holds memories for you and they are special, no one is denying that, but no one else will ever understand it either. This Nazi plunder, it holds memories too. Memories that neither of us could possibly understand. What if we could find who it actually belonged to before it was stolen by the Nazi's? What if you could give them back a remembrance of happier times in the past and a promise of happier times in the future? What do these paintings really hold for _you_? If they had burned, they would have been ashes and yes, that's a shame, but you didn't lose any memories because _they weren't yours_. What you _did_ lose because of your greed was the one woman who is still alive that loves you.

"I know." Peter had almost missed Neal's response because it was mumbled, but he was grateful the conman hadn't totally shut him out and might be paying at least a little bit of attention.

"Did Sara walk out because you told her, or did she walk out because you didn't and she somehow found out anyway?"

Neal thought that was a much too personal question and was none of Peter's business. Why did he care anyway, he already had Elizabeth. Blissfully unaware of Neal's negative thoughts, Peter pressed on.

"What is she worth to you? What are friendships even worth to you? Mozzie is going to find out eventually and yet you're willing to throw this all away for some greenbacks? I'm warning you, Neal; keep running down this path and all you'll have is yourself, your money and the threat of me chasing you all over the globe for both our lifetimes. I know I have better things to do, and you do too."

Neal was still sitting in stunned silence; still beating himself up over missing the security camera. Could Peter be right? Had he subconsciously wanted to be caught?

"I'm sorry, Peter. I knowingly violated your home and I wish..."

"...you wish you were never caught."

Peter could see the deer in the headlights look. It wasn't often he could catch Neal off guard, but when he did, it was definitely a moment worth savoring.

"So, what are you going to do? Invalidate our agreement? Send me back to prison?"

"Is that what you think you deserve?"

"Clearly I'm at your mercy, but I do trust you to do the right thing."

"I'm glad you trust me. Remember this picture here?" Peter indicated the security camera snapshot of Neal still visible on his computer screen. "This picture has plenty of symbolism and memories. If I turn it over to the person in the photo - you - because it means something to you, how much do _you_ think it would be worth? Could you even begin to put a price on it? Now think what would this picture be worth to _me_? Tough choices, I know. Should I decide to keep it to myself or bring it to the attention of any law enforcement agencies?"

Neal dared ask, "What do you think you would do?"

Peter looked Neal directly in the eyes. "It is worth more to me to give a certain person another chance at doing the right thing. But that's not what's at stake, what's at stake is what is this picture worth to you?"

Neal was so blown away by the first part of Peter's statement that he could only breathe, "You would do that for me?"

"Yes, I would, but I need you to answer my question, Neal. What's this picture worth to you?"

"I don't know. I don't know _how_ I would know."

"You're so excited about this Nazi treasure that's worth a fortune, but have you ever counted up what all the friendships and relationships you have here add up to? You have got to remember, Neal that money can't buy happiness, it's a priceless treasure that is often squandered even with good intentions."

Neal smiled at Peter. It was a genuine smile, a grateful smile, and most importantly a smile that said thank you.

"I think you might be wrong about that, Peter."

"What do you mean?"

"You paid money for the security camera that took this picture, and this picture just might be the key to buying me happiness."

"Well said."

"Could I ask just one favor, Peter?"

Peter held back a laugh, but was unable to keep his eyes from rolling.

"Do you _really_ think this is a good time to ask for a favor?"

"Quite possibly not, but I _would_ really like a copy of that staff photo you have in your safe. You know to remind me what a picture is worth."

"I'm proud of you Neal, I really am."

"Are you going to delete the security camera footage?"

"Will I need bribery material in the future?"

Peter gave Neal a while-I-think-you-are-changing-you-still-do-dumb-things-and-I'm-just-trying-to-protect-you look. Neal couldn't really deny it. He was still a work in progress, so he just looked at his feet and mumbled.

"It might not hurt to keep it, you know just in case."

"Yeah, I thought so. Now, what are you going to do about Mozzie or Sara?"

Neal raised his head to give Peter a look of disbelief.

"Could you not even let me have a moment or two of peace before you rain on my parade?"


	2. Chapter 2  A Fractured Fairytale

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

_White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network. My writing only __pays homage to the best writing currently on television (in my humble opinion)._

This second chapter takes place after the episode Countdown.

**Chapter 2 - A Fractured Fairytale**

After Diana, Jones and the rest of the FBI agents left to pursue leads, Peter and Neal were left to themselves in a very quiet house. The lack of Elizabeth's presence in the room was weighing heavily on both men. Peter paced around the dining room table not wanting to venture into the kitchen even though several agents had cleaned up the spilled sauce and there was no trace left of what had happened just a couple hours earlier.

Neal had taken up residence on the couch. He wanted to be there for Peter for moral support, but he also knew that Peter had every right to be furious with him, and he would more than likely get an earful whenever Peter decided to stop giving him the silent treatment.

After pacing for several minutes, Peter walked over to the mantle and picked up the photo that Elle had taken of himself and Neal dressed in tuxes; ready to go off and save Mozzie by using a wire scam to catch a Detroit mob boss.  
>Peter looked at it a moment before raising his grief stricken eyes to Neal. Neal wasn't sure what picture Peter had picked up but he surmised that it was most likely a picture of Elle and Peter was intending to lay a guilt trip on him. Neal's assumption turned out to be horribly wrong in only one part when Peter turned the picture around and Neal recognized it instantly. Neal didn't miss the catch in Peter's voice when he started speaking.<p>

"How could you do this to me? I thought you changed! I thought you chose to do the right thing, and now I find out that you've been lying the whole time! I should have known better when I found that security footage, but I let you lie through your teeth to me again! I am such a fool. What's a picture worth to you with your silver tongue? A thousand words isn't anything to you, the lies just slip right off your tongue without any effort, and they are so believable. It's because of you that Elizabeth was kidnapped! It doesn't ever end with you, Neal. You are always into something. You can't straddle the fence anymore! You say you're on my side, but then you go and prove you're on the other side. I've had enough of your lies. We are through."

Neal was taken aback. He had expected Peter to be mad, but he hadn't really expected Peter to end their partnership especially if he wanted help getting Elizabeth back. Neal looked up just in time to see Peter's hand with the picture in it heading rapidly for the wall. Neal's brain barely had time to process the information before his danger senses kicked in and he lifted his arms to protect his face a split second before the frame hit the wall, shattering the glass into a million little pieces. Peter knelt to pick up the picture leaving the shattered glass and frame pieces on the floor. Shaking the picture toward Neal, Peter growled out.

"This never happened."

Peter proceeded to rip the picture in half and then in half again, and then as if he hadn't gotten quite enough satisfaction, he took a couple of pieces, ripped them in smaller bits and let them float to the floor, and continued until the picture lay scattered in bits and pieces along with the glass on the floor.

Neal watched in horror as Peter ripped up the pieces noticing that Peter's fingers were now dripping in blood presumably from scratches and cuts from the flying glass and the blood was staining the picture. Neal realized how symbolic it all was; the glass, the picture, the blood. They all indicated something that had been forever altered and could never be put back together in exactly the same structure. Neal couldn't just let Peter give up on him though. As much as he wanted to be with Mozzie, the little guy just didn't get it. He had a life here with Peter. He just had to make Peter understand.

"Peter, we can fix this! Don't give up on me now when we've come so far."  
>"Maybe I don't want it to be fixed. Maybe Kramer was right – about everything."<p>

"Peter, I chose you. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"No, not anymore. Kramer was right. He warned me that relationships with CI's were short term relationships. He knew you were going to self-destruct. He warned me that I had to protect myself. He said I was going to get hurt when you do something stupid and I have to arrest you, because instead of seeing you as a criminal, I see you as a friend. He said _when_, Neal. Not _if. When._ He knew this was going to happen, and I didn't want to believe him. I didn't _want_ to believe him. I was so convinced I could change you. I thought you wanted to change. I was wrong; maybe I was wrong about everything. Maybe it was a power trip. I had you and my closure rate went up. I was proud and it went to my head. It clouded my better judgment, and now I might lose Elizabeth because of my stupid pride."

"We will find her, Peter. We'll get her back."

"There is no 'we', Neal. There is no 'us' anymore. I was wrong. Kramer said so himself. He said that searching for the truth makes me a good agent, but that I can't always be right. I was dead wrong about you."

"Peter, you don't mean that. You're just upset because Elizabeth is missing. Look at you, you're bleeding. You need to go the hospital; get it checked out. Let me help you."

"No, absolutely not. There are band aids upstairs. I'll be fine. I don't want your help."

Peter finally looked down at his hands, stained in red, as if he was seeing them for the first time. The emotions washing over him combined with the blood loss conspired to make him lightheaded and before he could say anything he felt himself spiraling down to the floor just like the picture pieces he had ripped.

Fortunately, Neal had noticed Peter was about to faint. Despite the fury Peter had just exhibited toward him, Neal decided that no matter what happened he had his partner's back, quite literally. After all, Neal thought one agent is more important than a thousand pieces of a picture and its frame as he caught Peter before he landed on top of the evidence that would always remind Neal of a fairytale, _his_ fairytale that had been fractured and quite possibly ruined beyond repair.


	3. Chapter 3  Through the Looking Glass

White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network. I'm just playing with their wonderful characters. If only I could play with them in real life ;-)

**Chapter 3 – Through the Looking Glass**

_This follows the aftermath of "Countdown" and this chapter has several flash backs from the episode "Company Man."_

I know it's been forever, but life has a way of happening…please forgive me…so just for review…

_Neal__watched__in__horror__as__Peter__ripped__up__the__pieces__noticing__that__Peter__'__s__fingers__were__now__dripping__in__blood__presumably__from__scratches__and__cuts__from__the__flying__glass__and__the__blood__was__staining__the__picture.__Neal__realized__how__symbolic__it__all__was;__the__glass,__the__picture,__the__blood.__They__all__indicated__something__that__had__been__forever__altered__and__could__never__be__put__back__together__in__exactly__the__same__structure._

_Peter finally looked down at his hands, stained in red, as if he was seeing them for the first time. The emotions washing over him combined with the blood loss conspired to make him lightheaded and before he could say anything he felt himself spiraling down to the floor just like the picture pieces he had ripped._

Neal laid Peter down on the floor, not wanting to stain the couch with Peter's blood still dripping from his hands. Neal pulled out his cell and hit the speed dial for June, who answered on the first ring.

"Hey, June. It's Neal. Peter got himself hurt, but he refuses to get medical attention. Could you send your doctor friend over who makes house calls? I'm at the Burke's."

"Oh, dear. Will he be all right?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine. There is blood and glass involved and I don't want to make things worse than they already are. Peter refused to go to the hospital, so I was trying to help when he fainted."

"Give me a few minutes and I will send Harry over as soon as possible."

"Thanks June. I really appreciate it."

Neal hung up and quickly got two wet towels from the kitchen and loosely wrapped Peter's hands in them. He was trying to stem the flow of blood without further damaging Peter's hands with any tiny shards of glass that might be present. Neal didn't feel comfortable trying to do more because just the sight of blood made him feel queasy. He didn't want to cause Peter any more pain and have him wake up and hurt himself further. Deciding he wasn't going to attempt to move Peter, Neal swept up the remaining glass and carefully picked the pieces of the picture out of the dustpan before emptying the contents in the trash. He walked over to the dining room table and laid the picture fragments out. Did he really even want to attempt to put the pieces back together? Was there anything left for him here? He couldn't make himself throw the pieces away though; they still reminded him that day when he and Peter had worked side by side to take down the Detroit mob. It was a day to be remembered, not forgotten, no matter what. Neal quietly entered the Burke kitchen and rummaged around until he found a Ziploc bag. He put the picture fragments in the bag and put it in his suit coat pocket. Neal checked on Peter again, and this time noticed that Peter's forehead was a little warm. Neal was about to get a cold wet washcloth from the kitchen when he heard the front door bell ring. _Thank__Goodness_, Neal thought. _Help__has__arrived._ Neal opened the front door relieved to see Harry standing there in a black trench coat with his black medical bag. Neal stepped aside to let Harry in, and closed the door behind him.

"Thank you so much for coming. I don't know what June told you, but my friend hurt himself and we need to keep this as under the radar as possible."

Harry chuckled good-naturedly.

"June wouldn't have called me if this _didn__'__t_ need to be discreet; that's part of what she pays me for."

Harry knelt beside Peter's still form on the floor, carefully raising one of Peter's hands to check the condition of his new patient.

"Should I assume this was self-inflicted, or did you two have a falling out that involved some rough-housing maybe? Boys will be boys, you know."

Neal colored slightly before answering.

"I could truthfully say that I'm probably not Peter's favorite person right now, but we didn't throw any punches. He was rightfully mad at me and he … ah, he smashed a glass photo frame into the wall. It shattered and he was cut by the glass. I told him we should go to the hospital, but he wouldn't listen. He just wanted some band aids. I'm not sure what happened, but the next minute he looked like he was going to faint and I caught him before he hit the floor."

Harry looked doubtful at Neal's story, but returned his gaze to his patient's hands. Harry opened his bag and withdrew a syringe, a vial of some sort of liquid, tweezers, gauze and some sort of ointment.

"I need some warm soapy water to soak his hands in. Could you get that for me, please?"

Neal disappeared through the door to the kitchen and reappeared a few minutes later carrying a medium sized plastic washbasin full of warm soapy water. Harry was just removing a needle from one of Peter's arms as Neal set the plastic washtub on the floor.

"What was that for?" Neal questioned Harry.

"I don't need him thrashing about while I'm trying to fix the damage to his hands, so he'll be out of it for a while."

Peter lifted his head off his desk. He must have fallen asleep. Where was he? This didn't look right. This was _not_ his office!

The telephone on Peter's desk lit up as his assistant's voice came over the intercom. The voice sounded familiar, but he realized it should if she was his assistant.

"Mr. Burke, your two o'clock appointment is here to see you. A Mr. Halden. Should I send him in?"

Peter was still trying to grasp the situation and why he was in this glass lined office with a phenomenal view of New York City. He was so caught up that he didn't respond right away.

"Mr. Burke? Are you ok?" Hearing nothing, Peter's assistant became worried that something was indeed wrong with her boss, until she finally heard a response coming back through the intercom.

"Yes, Yes. I'm fine. Please send him in."

Peter was still out of sorts trying to figure out if this was real or a dream. Maybe it was something he had eaten for lunch? He didn't remember having lunch, but maybe his assistant knew where he had gone. Peter had just made a mental note to remember to ask his assistant when his door opened and a smartly dressed young man in a high class suit and black fedora let himself in.

Peter got up from his chair and walked toward the man. He looked slightly familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he might have known him. Peter extended his hand and the young man extended his as well, giving Peter a firm and confident handshake. Peter realized that his assistant had said he had an appointment, but Peter could not remember what the young man was here for.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Halden." Peter said, indicating a chair as he walked around to the other side of the desk. "I apologize, I don't seem to be feeling well, and I don't remember what the purpose of your appointment was."

"Nick. Sir. Nick Halden. I'm a security consultant. You have quite a few priceless treasure scattered around your office and you were looking to beef up your security."

"Yes. Yes, I was." Peter responded, but his mind was working furiously to catch up. _I__was__thinking__about__upgrading__my__security?__What__do__I__do?__What__am__I__doing__here?__This__all__feels__wrong._Peter noticed Nick had a look of concern on his face. _Maybe__I__really__do__look__sick._Peter thought._What__were__we__discussing?__Oh,__yes.__Security.__Ask__him__about__security._

"So, Mr. Halden, did you have a list of recommendations?"

"Well, for starters, your employees need to be more cautious, they are very friendly to strangers. This is not in and of itself a bad thing, but they just need to be more aware of the dangers inherent when giving strangers access to your company. I would recommend a metal detector and everyone needs to wear a badge identifying them as an employee visible at all times. I would also recommend some positive public relations incentives. If people think you are giving back to the community they will be less likely to be a viable security threat than someone who thinks you are sticking it to them. Your image is a bit tarnished. We need to steer you away from the Scrooge impression."

"I'm not sure what you mean. I'm not Scrooge."

Peter saw the way Neal's eyebrows raised at his comment as if Neal really did think he was Scrooge.

"You, Mr. Burke, are the CEO of a major Fortune 500 company. You own a private jet and a lovely penthouse suite. You have a stable in the Hamptons. You obviously have money to burn. You've successfully climbed the corporate ladder, but that creates enemies, not friends. We need to create a more pleasant atmosphere. You have to romance the stockholders, and create goodwill with your employees. You're not an FBI Agent. You don't have to interrogate your employees. They want to feel appreciated. Now, I do have one other security related question. Have you received any threats so that we might be able to narrow our focus?"

"Threats?" Peter looked up confused. _What__did__Nick__mean,__not__an__FBI__Agent.__Of__course__he__was__an__FBI__Agent.__This__wasn't__the__life__he__had__chosen.__ What__had__happened?__Who__was__this__man__and__why__did__he__know__so__much__about__him?_

"Yes. Have you or any of your employees received any type of threat?

Peter felt his heart sink. He knew it sounded crazy, so he whispered.

"He threatened my wife, and then she was gone. He kidnapped her."

Peter closed his eyes trying to remember. _What__was__his__wife__'__s__name?__Why__couldn__'__t__he__remember?_

"Mr. Burke? Peter? You're not married. You don't have a wife. Don't you remember? You choose this job and she left you standing at the altar. It was all over the society pages; _quite_ the scandal. Like I said, you have more enemies than friends. You _need_ a security consultant, and I'm the best person for the job."

The audacity of this man was overwhelming; no one talks like that at an interview where they are trying to impress someone. It was beginning to grate on Peter's nerves.

"You're not listening to me. It was Keller. Keller kidnapped my wife. You find Keller, and I'll hire you with a generous salary."

"You can save your money, Mr. Burke. Not that you need to though, maybe you could donate it to a charity that could actually use it. You know help with your public image as a charitable person."

Both Nick and Peter looked up startled by the new occupant of Peter's office.

"So I overheard a few things including that you were looking for me. I'm right here. Oh, and as for your security consultant, he has something that rightfully belongs to me, and I intend on getting it back."

Peter glanced over at Nick before muttering under his breath.

"Keller."

Peter looked aghast as Keller drew a weapon. Peter moved in front of Nick, protecting his future security consultant from the intruder as he wasn't exactly sure what the problem was yet.

"How did you get past my security?"

"Charm really goes a long way, especially when there's money involved. You really do need a security consultant, but I really can't recommend this one." Keller motioned to Nick with his weapon.

"I'm really not sure why you are protecting him, but you should know that he's been lying to you from the start. His name is Neal Caffrey, not Nick Halden, and he has already walked away with many of your priceless treasures - half of which were supposed to be mine."

Neal had a mega watt grin as he said, "Burke's security can't be all bad, they certainly sprang into action when I yelled 'Gun!' It wasn't my fault you insisted on carrying a weapon. You could have gotten away with your half of the art if you'd only listened to me."

Peter meanwhile had gotten very pale, he was piecing together the tale that Neal and Keller had already robbed him and that Neal was trying to worm his way back into the company for more while Keller just brazenly walked into his office with a weapon that looked suspiciously like a tranquilizer gun.

"The attempted robbery was you two?"

Neal finally looked up at Peter's face as Peter turned to look at him seething in anger, so much for the security job. It wasn't like he really needed the security job anyway, it had been more of an inside way to keep tabs on the wealthy bachelor.

"To be technical, Keller was the one caught with the paintings."

Peter realized that there was more that Neal left unsaid and it was something like "and I was the one that got away." Peter could see that Neal couldn't help but gloat, in fact, he was positively beaming. It wasn't often that Neal was able to get a step ahead of Keller, but it seemed that Keller was taking it personally and more than happy to make Neal suffer.

Keller took a step closer but stepped to the side to avoid Peter and aimed the gun at Neal.

"You're nothing but a flea, Caffrey; a mere annoyance. If Burke's security guards hadn't detained me and found the art I would never have been able to play on their insecurities and their discontent. They wholeheartedly agreed that Mr. Burke here could be taken down a peg or two, and I assured them it could be done."

"You took my wife, Keller. You told me so yourself! Now, you're gloating about bribing my security team? I don't understand what's going on. This is not my life! What do you want? Why do people I don't even know betray me?"

Keller started to chuckle again, and suddenly Peter heard Neal's voice in his head followed by Peter's own answers.

_Embrace your hypothetical self._

_I don't do hypothetical._

_We speculate all the time._

_On our cases, not on my life choices._

Keller was still laughing at him, saying, "You are your own worst nightmare. You are everything you were afraid of becoming. You are your own worst nightmare. You are everything you were afraid of becoming."

Peter couldn't make Keller stop, it was like listening to a broken record of something he didn't want to hear. Finally another conversation surfaced and Peter could hear a conversation between himself and Neal.

_Don't fight your instincts Peter, embrace your true self. …In some alternate universe, you'd be wearing power ties, doing power lunches, flying corporate jets._

_I doubt we'd have ever met._

_Maybe under different circumstances._

_Well__that__'__s__true,__you__might__have__robbed__the__company._

Peter looked down, he _was_ wearing a power tie, and he still didn't remember lunch, maybe he had flown somewhere on his corporate jet. Keller was claiming that Neal had robbed his company and gotten away with it while Keller had bribed his security guards for access. He wasn't an FBI Agent and he wasn't married. He didn't like this alternate universe. He wanted his life back. Peter pulled himself back to reality, still hearing Keller's voice droning on.

"It's all about character, Mr. Burke. If you're not respected by your employees then it really doesn't matter how much you're paying them. Character matters, even I know that. I just use it to get what I want. So, the real question is, 'Who are you now and who are you willing to save?"

Keller gave a small wave with the hand not holding the gun, and two members of Peter's security team appeared holding a dark haired beauty between them.

"Meet your lovely assistant, Peter."

Peter's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Elizabeth? What? How?"

While Peter was momentarily distracted by the sight of Elle, Neal noticed Keller's finger tightening on the trigger. Neal rushed to Elle's side and caught the tranquilizer dart in his shoulder.

"A brave, but foolish act." Keller sneered as he pushed Neal to the floor and sent another dart zinging into Elizabeth's arm. The guard let her drop to the floor right next to Neal, while the other security guard already had restrained Peter from helping either one. Keller blew some imaginary smoke off the end of the tranquilizer gun and took a few steps over to where Peter was being held back.

"Now, Peter." Keller began, with a look of satisfaction. "Both of your so called friends have been tranquilized, but I only have enough antidote for one of them. Who are you going to save? The woman you love, or the man who betrayed you?"

Peter was frozen in place. He didn't have any words, and his voice wasn't working. How could Keller force him to choose? Peter looked down at Elle and Neal, both out cold from the tranquilizer darts. He felt responsible for getting them into this mess, but then remembered that Keller had also told him that Neal was behind the theft of his priceless artwork. Did Neal deserve what was happening? Did Elle? Was Peter heartless if he just let Neal die to save his wife? Someone's blood was going to be on his hands even if it wasn't real physical blood. He didn't like the man Keller was claiming he was now, but how did he get back to the man he had been? He wanted his life back with Elle. He wanted his townhome, his work at the Bureau, and he wanted his dog. He didn't need fancy cars, fancy ties and fancy espresso drinks. He wanted to be a man of character that people would respect. Peter could feel himself growing faint. He had to make a choice. He had to choose.

Peter finally choked out, "She's my wife. Save her."

Peter could see Keller leaning over to administer the antidote to Elle, while the guards were still retraining him. He had chosen his wife over Neal. He looked down at his hands imagining them covered in blood, Neal's blood. It was his fault Neal was going to die, but he was still hearing Neal's voice.

"_Maybe you picked the wrong universe to live in?"_


	4. Chapter 4  All the Kings Horses

**A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words**

_Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network. My work is simply homage to some of the greatest writing out there. _

Merry Christmas to everyone who is, like me, celebrating Christmas today! For everyone else, you can celebrate the last chapter of my story!

**"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,"**

BY MOTHER GOOSE

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;

All the king's horses and all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty together again.

Source: _The Dorling Kindersley Book of Nursery Rhymes_ (2000)

**Chapter 4: All the Kings Horses and All the Kings Men**

Peter awoke with a start. He sat up a little too quickly and felt a wave of nausea wash over him as he grasped the arm of the couch to steady himself. He looked up and saw a strange man sitting in a chair not too far away. _Who was he?_ _Where did he come from? _Peter looked around and recognized the couch. It was his couch in his town home, the one he shared with Elle, his wife. _Why was he confused?_ Peter specifically remembered someone telling him he wasn't married. _Where had he been? What was going on?_ The last thing Peter remembered was seeing Neal unconscious while his own security guards were holding him back from saving him, and Keller was administering the antidote to Elle, because he had chosen her over Neal.

"Who are you? Where's Neal? Where's my wife? Keller said he would save her."  
>The man in the chair smiled slowly as if deciding what to tell Peter.<br>"My name is Harry. You had a little accident and your friend was very concerned about you. June called me, but don't worry, I was never here."  
>"You were never here? Are you another figment of my imagination? Am I still dreaming? Where did my office go?"<br>Harry ignored Peter's questions.  
>"Your hands will be fine in a couple days. I got the bleeding stopped and all the glass I could find out."<br>Peter looked down at his bandaged hands.  
>"Blood? I don't remember there being blood. I wasn't the one hurt. Neal was… Neal was hurt and I couldn't save him."<p>

Peter said this slowly as his memory was slowly coming back to him, and then his face lit up.  
>"Elizabeth. I saw her. I couldn't save Neal because I saved her life. I chose Elle. She's my wife. Neal said she wasn't but I know she is. It wasn't real. It <em>wasn't<em> real. Where is she? I need to see her. Why isn't she here?"

Harry held up his hand to stop Peter's frantic rambling.

"Your friend said you had been hurt and wouldn't go to a hospital. That's as much information as I have."

Harry looked like he was going to say more, but he was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Before Peter could get up to answer it, Harry motioned for Peter to stay sitting.

"Let me get that for you."

Harry opened the door to find two FBI agents standing there. He let them both in and followed them back to the couch where Peter was sitting. Harry picked up his medical bag and turned to leave.

"I'll leave him in your care." Harry said to them. "If anything worse develops, give June a call. She'll know how to get in touch. There's nothing more I can do for him, but he does seem a bit confused. Maybe you can answer some of his questions better than I can."

Jones shook Harry's hand.

"Thanks for your help. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it. Any friend of June's is worth helping."

Harry let himself out while Jones and Diana each pulled up a chair.

"Who was that?" Jones inquired of Peter.

Peter gave them both a strange look as if trying to sort things out in his mind.

"That was Harry, a friend of June's." Peter paused. "Let me ask you a question. So, I'm not the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and I don't have a stable in the Hamptons, right? I'm an FBI Agent and you work with me, right? _Please_ tell me that's right."

Peter looked at them with a gaze pleading with them to agree with him.

"Yeah, Boss. You work with us."

Diana looked puzzled as she was really becoming worried about Peter's mental state.

"Do you remember what happened? Neal was a little light on the details. He just said we needed to get back over here."

"You spoke with Neal? He's ok? I thought for sure he was dead."

"Dead? Neal?" Jones looked surprised. "Ah, no. I'm not sure where he is, but he sounded just fine. Did you want me to pull up his tracking data?"

"No, that's not necessary. I just… I remember talking to him, and then Keller came and then…"

"Keller was here, in your house?"

"What? No, Keller was at work. He was threatening me. He said he bribed the security guards."

"Keller bribed the security guards at the FBI building?"

"What? No. Now I'm confused. I do work at the FBI don't I? Something's wrong with me. Harry gave me something, didn't he? He drugged me. I can't think straight. I don't know what happened?"

Diana was growing even more concerned and she reached over to feel Peter's forehead.

"You're a little warm boss. Maybe you're getting sick."

"I'm _not_ sick. He drugged me. He gave me something. I'm sure of it. Where's my wife?"

Jones quickly looked over at Diana just to make sure she agreed that they should tell Peter that his wife was still missing. Diana shrugged back noncommittally, leaving the choice up to Jones, who grimaced before telling Peter.

"Keller still has her. We're looking for her right now. We've got as many agents as we can spare on it. We'll get her back."

"So, I was just dreaming I saw her wasn't I? It didn't really happen."

Peter seemed to deflate. He had really been hoping Elizabeth was safe.

"We'll get her back Boss." Diana encouraged. "Neal called a doctor because something happened to you. He didn't specifically say what. Do you remember anything?"

Diana put her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm Peter down.

"It's ok. Just calm down. First of all, do you remember why you cut your hands?"

Peter stared down at his hands. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.

"If Neal called a doctor, why didn't he stay? I don't remember."

"You must have said or done something to make him leave, Peter. I know you were angry with him. We all are."

"Would you mind reminding me why I am mad at him?"

Diana looked over at Jones and this time took pity on him and explained the whole situation to Peter.

"Keller took Elizabeth because he knew that Neal has the Nazi treasure. Keller is forcing Neal's hand into revealing the treasure and destroying your partnership with him while Elizabeth is paying the price for your friendship."

Peter pondered that for a moment.

"I think I remember. I think… Yes. There was a picture, a picture of myself and Neal. We were… We were wearing tuxes. I showed it to him and then…"

Peter stopped and Jones and Diana could see him pale a bit before he continued.

"That's what happened. I smashed the glass, and I ripped up the picture and… Where is it? It must be here. There was glass everywhere."

Both Diana and Jones looked around but seeing nothing, Diana reported.

"There's nothing here Boss. There isn't any evidence of anything broken. You're sure that's what happened?"

"Yes. Yes, I remember now. Neal was begging me to forgive him and I just couldn't. I was angry and I just couldn't listen to him. He promised that 'we' would find Elle, but I told him there was no 'we.' I told him we were finished, and then… Then he was talking to me about security and Keller shot him, said he had betrayed me. Keller made me choose and I had to choose Elle, and then I woke up and you were here. That doesn't make any sense. I'm rambling and I've lost my mind."

Jones put his hand on Peter's shoulder encouraging him that everything would work out no matter how bleak it looked.

"It's ok. Peter. We'll get this worked out. If Neal wasn't concerned about you he wouldn't have called for a doctor. Besides, if you haven't gotten a call from the Marshals then he hasn't run yet, so that is a good thing."

"I don't know if this can be fixed. He took the treasure and he lied about it. It's _his_ fault Elizabeth was kidnapped. How can I ever forgive him?"

Diana had a sympathetic look on her face as she stood and started to pace around the Burke's living room.

"Maybe you can't forgive him now, but give it time."

"Time? What does time have to do with anything? I don't know how to fix this! How could I have let this happen?"

Diana stopped and sat on the edge of the couch still giving Peter plenty of space, but wanting to show her support.

"It will never be what it was; it will be different. It could be worse or it could be better, or even great if you let it. Yes, your relationship will have to change, but it doesn't have to be worse. There are always at least two choices. What happens depends on how you react as well."

Peter looked over at Diana and she was saddened to see Peter's pain filled eyes looking back at her. Peter whispered almost to himself.

"But he's been lying the whole time. This whole thing has been a con; once a con, always a con, and I was stupid enough to believe it."

Peter recalled his conversation with Kramer, his mentor, telling him how he knew this was going to end. "_These are short term relationships…at best. It's hardwired in their brains_." Kramer must think he was such a fool.

_**Two Days Later…**_

Hughes had granted Peter some sick leave, so he had stayed at home trying unsuccessfully to rest and waiting impatiently for any news or update on Elizabeth. Diana and Jones had been good about calling him with updates, but Peter still felt out of the loop, even though it was quite obvious his hands were still healing and he wouldn't be able to do much.

Peter heard a ding and after several repeating dings, he finally realized it was the doorbell. He realized he must have fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV. Peter carefully got off the couch, trying not to put too much pressure on his injured hands and slowly opened the door to find Diana standing there with a package and an envelope in her hands.

"Diana. Please, come in."

Peter seemed a bit surprised to see her, but then stepped back to let her in.

"I didn't expect to see you in person. Do you have any news about Elizabeth?"

"Jones is shadowing Neal right now while he's meeting with Keller. We'll get her back. It shouldn't be long now. I didn't want you to be alone."

The FBI Agent in Peter got a chill up his spine as he was mentally finishing Diana's phrase with '_in case something bad happens_.'

"I found these by your front door. I didn't know if you knew they were there or not."

"I didn't hear the doorbell ring, but I had apparently fallen asleep because I woke up when you rang the doorbell just now."

Diana extended the package and the letter.

"Your hands look better, did you want to try and open these?"

"No, I think I'll pass for now. They are still really tender. You may have the honors."

Diana set the package down on the coffee table and carefully opened the envelope.

"This looks like Neal's writing." She commented as she looked at the flowing script before she started reading.

"_They say 'A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words' and I'm sure by now you don't want to hear any words I might say, so I wanted to show you. I know our partnership is probably non-existent by now, but I wanted to make sure you know that I am sorry. I know you don't think I have changed, but every day I see more and more pieces of you in myself and I know it's a good thing, I'm just not all the way there yet; please don't give up on me. I'm sorry I left, but I didn't think you would want to see me when you woke up and I needed to put a plan in place. I knew that Harry would take good care of you. _

_I promise I will get Elizabeth back to you no matter what. If, after this note, you still feel the need to rip up a picture, please don't destroy the painting. Could you rip up the picture from the security camera instead? Just please don't hurt yourself this time._

_I know you have no reason to trust me anymore, so I'm not asking for our partnership to be reinstated. I know it can never be what it was, but I am asking for your forgiveness and a chance to be a better person. I can't do it without you. I hope the painting can bridge the gap between us for now, and I meant what I said on the painting. I truly hope it's worth a thousand words of apology. Neal."_

Diana put the letter down.

"He sounds very sincere. Do you think this is another con?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should check the package."

Diana carefully opened the package and withdrew a small frame. She gave a small gasp when she pulled the painting out. Neal had glued some of the larger fragments of the ripped tux picture onto the canvas and painted around them with white lines; promoting a ripped effect. He had then finished the images of himself and Peter outside of the white lines and then added in drawings of Jones, Diana, Elizabeth, June, Sara and Mozzie. Neal even had Satchmo reclining at Peter's feet. The painting was entitled "My Family" and Neal had even signed his full name in the corner. No hidden initials anywhere for them to find, but out in plain sight, clearly taking ownership for the work. Diana was so taken in by the photo that she didn't even hear Peter until he had said her name twice.

"Diana." Peter said again, wondering what would have possibly drawn her in. "Would you mind turning it around so I could see it?"

"Yeah, sorry Boss."

Diana turned the picture around and carefully set it on the coffee table so that Peter could study it without having to hold it. She noticed that Peter didn't say a word while looking at the painting, but eventually she noticed a stray tear running down his check. He didn't even bother to wipe it away. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but remembering Neal's letter, she asked.

"So, is it worth a thousand words?"

Peter still remained quiet for at least another minute, and Diana was feeling rather awkward wondering what Peter could be thinking. It wasn't your normal portrait. Neal had definitely given it a ripped up, almost destroyed look with the white lines drawn around him and Peter, but it still amazed Diana how much it actually moved her. She was touched that Neal had thought to include her as part of his family as well. She shifted on the couch slightly when Peter finally looked up at her and smiled with tears still in his eyes.

"It's perfect."

~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~


End file.
